Love Me, Love Me Not
by MiaulinK
Summary: Danny has never heard his parents say, "I love you," to him. Maybe it's the one thing he wants most. To know his parents love him, to not worry that they hate him. Jazzy says they love him. He doesn't know if he should believe her. Sequel up!
1. Neglect

**I own nothing!**

Chapter 1: Neglect

Danny watches his parents working in the lab, standing alone by the door. He stands there for a few minutes, wondering if telling his parents about his latest escapades is worth it. His sister tells him not to, because it gets him in trouble. Danny isn't the sort to give up without a fight though, so he walks in, banging the door hard. Nobody looks up. They ignore him completely, and Danny feels a rush of anger.

Instead of yelling, he walks up behind his parents, and comes to a standstill in front of the projects they've been working on since he was a baby. Studying ectoplasm and its nature is something his parents do with incredible enthusiasm, which makes most people think they're insane. Ectologists, they call themselves. Danny likes to think they'll one day give him all the attention he wants.

His parents turn around, mother holding a prongs set, prepared to grab a test tube. Danny doesn't know which test tube they want. He doesn't care, either. Mother gives him a look, and tries to reach past him. Danny shifts to block her, and asks her something he hopes she'll answer. "Mama, can you take me to the park? I wanna go to Sammy's party, pretty please."

Danny is smart, but he ignores the anger that flashes across his mother's face, until the shoves him out of the way. "I have more important things to do than take you to a party. This is science. Science comes first. Go upstairs."

Danny stays there, and tries to summon up the courage to protest. He finally gets out, "But I promised Sammy-"

His mama cuts him off sharply. "I don't care what you promised Sammy. Leave. This is a delicate procedure. I can't be interrupted by a five year old who wants to see his friend. Shoo!" She glares at him, cowing him rapidly, and he retreats to the door, a few tears making their way out of his eyes. He sprints out, sobbing, because mama told him he isn't important enough. He needs to be important enough to notice.

He curls up in his hidey hole underneath the stairs that nobody but his sister knows about, and cries hard as he can, tries to erase _don't care what you promise_ and _science comes first_ , and _more important things to do_. Why don't Mama and Daddy like him? Is he as useless as they say he is? Surely, he _must_ be. Parents don't say things that aren't true, right? He doesn't stop crying. Maybe one day he won't be so useless. Maybe one day his parents will love him.

He hears shuffling and scooting noises under his stairs, and sees a small silhouette against the metallic stairs. He feels his sister wrap her arms around him, rocking him back and forth slightly, waiting for him to calm down. Finally, his eyes dry, and he sits there, silent.

"What happened?" Jazz asks, still holding him, the size of the both of them making it awkward, but not too hard.

Danny nearly doesn't answer, but finally, he says something. "Jazzy, am I not important? Mama doesn't think I am. Mama says I'm useless. Daddy didn't stop her."

He knows what she'll say. She has said it before. She says it this time, too. "You aren't useless. They just don't see how useful you are. You should still stop getting in their way. It'll be better if you try to obey them, like I do. If you do, you won't get so much attention from them. Then, they'll stop yelling at you. One day, they'll show you that they love you."

Her voice is a mockery of confidence. It wobbles like a see-saw that can't stay steady, even when she tries to make it sound like she knows everything. Danny can read her tone. "Jazzy, what if they never do?"

She is quiet again, before she says, "Of course they will. You know when I got sick, how they gave me some medicine?" Danny remembers, but he doesn't correct her on a detail. They had only given her medicine when he insisted, not letting go of his father's pant leg until he got the ibuprofen down. Jazzy couldn't ask for it because she was sleeping. She didn't look good. She was flushed, and mumbling in her sleep, tossing and turning. She doesn't know it was he who convinced Daddy to get the medicine.

A thought hits him. "Jazzy, if I got sick, would they take care of me?" He waits for a reply, and she gives one with a great deal of genuine confidence. This time, he knows she isn't faking it. She says yes, _of course_ they would. He doesn't say anything about the idea that occurs to him. Why shouldn't he make himself get sick? It would be easy, and he has some ideas already.

Just after supper that night, he fills himself up on so much fudge that he throws up. He's sick, and he wonders if they notice. They don't. He tries to make it worse than it is when he asks his mama for some medicine, because he doesn't feel well. She knows that he ate too much fudge, though, so she ignores him again, and leaves him to go to bed when he feels better. He is angry. It didn't work. He needs some other way to catch their attention. As he falls asleep, a new idea hits him, and he knows what he will do tomorrow, as soon as he can. A smile creeps across his face.

Maybe, when he's finished, his mama and daddy will tell him they love him, and he can be happy. He pictures his dream life, with a mama that hugs him every day, and a daddy who loves him, and a sister, and maybe more sisters and brothers. He wants one more. He decides that the new baby will be a sister, because Jazzy probably would want one, and there will be another brother, and their names will be Bluebell and Fuzzy, even though something tells him that those aren't good names. He'll be able to go to Sam's house every day, and play with Tucker, and go to the park, and everything will be perfect. He'll have a pretty new house with a huge planetarium, and lots of pencils and paper for drawing. He falls fast asleep, happy that soon, he'll have the best life ever.

 **Like it? Hate it? This is yet another idea I've had for a while. Please review it! Thanks!**

 **-MiaulinK**


	2. Pills

**I own nothing!**

 _He'll be able to go to Sam's house every day, and play with Tucker, and go to the park, and everything will be perfect. He'll have a pretty new house with a huge planetarium, and lots of pencils and paper for drawing. He falls fast asleep, happy that soon, he'll have the best life ever._

Chapter 2: Pills

It's time for Danny to put his plan into action. He knows what he wants to do, so he waits until just before supper the next day. He creeps into the kitchen (Mama and Daddy might not like knowing he planned this), grabs a chair, and sets it beside the long row of cabinets that line his family's kitchen.

Mama keeps an entire cabinet filled with medicine, even old prescription medicine that nobody uses anymore. It's an old habit, from when she was young, and her family had to save money by keeping all medicines. They're all labeled, and Danny knows what to do. He opens the cabinet, and unseals a random bottle of medicine, and some pills. He starts with a slurp of the liquid medicine, and uses that to wash down the pills he chose. He's proud of his plan. It won't fail. It can't fail.

Finally, he finishes all the bottles, and he realizes he has a problem. There will be bottles missing if he throws them away, and they'll be empty if he leaves them. He takes them to the counter, and starts to fill them up with water. He abandons the project very quickly in favor of a more interesting one, becoming very distracted-he wanders off, stepping outside, and trying to grab a butterfly.

He gives up, and instead choses to head back inside when his stomach starts cramping, and his head starts pounding. He wobbles his way away, but has to sit down, because he feels dizzy. He starts to vomit, acid and medicine streaming out of his mouth. He stops throwing up, and he can feel his chest getting heavy. It's hard to breath. He doesn't know how much time passes, but he starts to feel drifty, like he's floating away. It's a weird feeling, and he wonders why he feels that way. Everything turns black as his eyes close, and unconsciousness takes him, covering him in a warm blanket of darkness, even as his life begins to peel away from his body like a too-old sticker with no stick left.

* * *

Jasmine Fenton races up the stairs, ready to tell Danny all about school. She wants to give him the chocolate she earned in her first class for "being quick to obey." She would have normally eaten it by now, but he looked so sad yesterday that she decides he deserves it. She runs all the way up to his room, and calls for him. Maybe he's in the closet. Then, she checks his hidey hole. He isn't there. She looks all though the house, trying to calm the terrified feeling that flutters inside her chest like a trapped bird.

She doesn't notice him until she trips over him. Her panicky sprint through the house sends her sprawling, though she somehow misses the vomit all over the floor. It hurts when she hits the ground. She sits up, and looks around for the reason for her fall. The reason is on its side, eyes closed, body so still it's rocklike. She moves towards him, shakes him, struggles to awaken him. He doesn't stir, again. Not even a gasp. He's sweating all over, and he's breathing shallow, quick breaths. She threatens him, tells him to stop playing dead, but he doesn't move.

She begs him, until sense returns, and she calls 911, almost hysterical as she tries to tell everything. The police call manager person is kind, and helps her not panic too much more. The ambulance pulls up within a few minutes, and she is almost taken with her brother to the hospital. She won't leave him alone, she says, but she has to. Children under thirteen aren't allowed there without parents to keep their eyes on them. So she stays, unwillingly. She knows that her parents are called from wherever they are, and they promise to start on their way, as soon as they're done. She remembers the conversation from yesterday, how he asked about what would happen if he got sick. She knows that he did it on purpose. She hopes their parents really do love him, and that they tell him that. She curls up alone on her bed, in her bland white room (Mom and Dad don't let them decorate (because they like the clean rooms-dirty rooms are ugly, they say), so she hides the posters she keeps from their monthly-ish inspections). Bearburt Einstein is her company, and she hugs him close to her chest. She waits to hear what happened to her brother. She waits to learn if he'll be alright. She waits.

 **Hi! I hope you like this chapter as well! Please remember to review! Thanks!**

 **-MiaulinK**


	3. Hospitalized

**I** _ **still**_ **own nothing, believe it or not…**

 _Everything turns black as his eyes close, and unconsciousness takes him, covering him in a warm blanket of darkness, even as his life begins to peel away from his body like a too-old sticker with no stick left._

Chapter 3: Hospitalized

Danny opens his eyes to a white ceiled room with pale green walls. There's a television in the room, hanging in a corner. It's off. A machine beeps beside him, blue lines zig-zagging up and down in time to the beeps. Meaningless numbers are on other machines, numbers that change every few moments. He lets himself watch them, fascinated by the coils of what looks like a see-through pipe, which he sees liquid inside. It's connected to his wrist, and the other end is attached to a bag on a pole. The covers of his bed are white, and way too clean. Danny feels uncomfortable.

The room smells funny, the kind of smell too much cleaner leaves in his family's lab. He wrinkles his nose. A window faces out over a rooftop, sunny patches lightening the drab grey of a cement roof. There are curtains with ugly, cloudy-pea-soup-green cloth. It doesn't look at all like a children's room. Danny doesn't know where he is, just that he isn't home.

It takes a few minutes for his parents to enter. His dad Jack carries a coffee, as does his mom. Danny sniffs the air, enjoying the smell. His parents notice the small sound, and turn towards him. His mom manages to stiffly ask if he's alright, and his dad sits down on a couch, springs creaking with his weight. He nods, and his mom joins his dad on the couch.

Silence permeates the room, tenseness growing. His parents manage to inform the doctors that he's awake. He asks what happened, and is told that he's at the hospital after trying to eat too much medicine. The doctor puts it in simple terms.

"You shouldn't ever take medicine unless you need it," he is informed. "Your parents are very lucky to still have a son. When you take medicine you don't need, it hurts you. Don't try any medicine ever again without their permission."

During the lecture, he remembers. He doesn't say anything. The moment the doctors leave, he waits, stopping all speech. His throat is sore, anyway. The doctor said that was what happens when everything in your stomach gets taken out. Soon, his parents will do it. Soon, they'll tell him they love him, that they never meant to hurt him, that everything will be fine. Nobody says anything. In minutes, his parents stand awkwardly and leave. They don't offer an excuse. Danny decides that maybe they don't know how to say that they love him. Soon, they'll say it.

Nobody visits, and he's so tired, he falls fast asleep, head sinking down into the pillows, dreaming of when his parents will tell him that they love him. He smiles in his sleep, angelic in all appearance, peaceful.

He's bored. He's been waiting for a long time. The nurse says that he has to stay in the hospital "for observation, which means we're making sure you'll be fine," for another two days. He looks at picture books, and waits for visitors. His parents still don't say it. He knows they will, soon. Of course they will. Jazzy said they would. He plays with the toys. He gets more smiles from nurses than he's seen in his entire life up to this point. He likes the hospital, all except for the yucky food. In fact, he didn't eat lunch at all today. Lunch looked like ooshy-mooshy-gooshy bananas. Almost everything was yellow.

He hates bedtime, because Jazzy isn't here to tuck him in. The nurse walks in sometimes, and he can't sleep. What if monsters are hiding under the bed? At least they check. Mama never has done that. Jazzy always looks, though. He crashes in the mid-morning of the next day, exhausted. He sleeps for hours, until night comes again. Jazzy hasn't visited all day, he learns. He cries most of the night, it feels like. Why doesn't she come? He asks the nurse why his parents don't come. They tell him that his parents are working on something, that it's too delicate to simply leave. It could explode. They only barely managed to be able to visit him. She frowns a little bit, but not much. He tries to cling to the idea that they'll come. _Surely_ they will. He waits for them to say it.

Jazzy comes, finally. He's been waiting, but the moment he sees her, he feels anger. She tries to hug him, but he draws back. She attempts again, but fails. Instead, she perches on the edge of the bed, determined to talk to him, but unable to think of anything to really say. He is the one who breaks her uncomfortable, tense chatter.

"Why?" For a five year old, his voice is quiet. Other five year olds might yell this. His eyes are accusing. He waits for a reply. She doesn't respond. Not yet. How can she answer a question like that? "Why didn't you come?"

She draws in a breath, the kind of breath one might draw before plunging into icy water. "I couldn't." She hopes her tone doesn't waver. He waits, a nonverbal demand written on his face. "There are rules. Nobody under thirteen can come without an adult." She tries to anticipate his response.

"You're my sister. You can come," he says. His eyes flash.

"No. I can't. They can't just change the rules for me." She responds. She doesn't like the way he looks as she says it.

"You're my sister," he replies. "They can. Mama and Daddy came. You could come, too. Why didn't you?" He gulps, and it looks like tears are on the way. Jazzy struggles for an explanation, one that doesn't involve her being locked in her room for accidentally telling their parents. She let it slip at supper while being questioned intently. She can't think of one. "You don't like me, do you? You hate me! You would have come, _you should've come_."

Danny turns away from her, breaking eye contact. She can't explain. She tries to, but he doesn't listen. She can't tell the truth. Not here, not in a hospital, with officials who might kidnap them for saying anything. Daddy says they will. She gives up eventually. What good can she possibly do? Little to none is the answer. Her heart cracks a little, but she reminds herself that he'll be home soon. They've argued before. Soon, he'll be fine again. Soon, they'll be back to normal. She can only hope their parents tell him they love him. He needs it.

 **Hi! Yet another chapter…Review, please! Thanks!**

 **-MiaulinK**


	4. Home

**I own nothing!**

 _Her heart cracks a little, but she reminds herself that he'll be home soon. They've argued before. Soon, he'll be fine again. Soon, they'll be back to normal. She can only hope their parents tell him they love him. He needs it._

Chapter 4: Home

Danny normally would have been quite eager to go on a trip with his parents, but today is not "normally". He is coming back from the hospital tired. He doesn't need a wheelchair, but he's a little unsteady on his feet. He intently avoids sitting near Jazzy. He hasn't forgiven her yet. He ignores the pain in her eyes that she can't hide. He sits near his parents. Once they get home, they'll say it. They'll tell him they love him. He feels excitement tingling through his body like electricity. Jazzy eyes him with worry. He ignores that too, basking in expectation. He laughs at the slightest provocation, even at incredibly not-funny things. He bounces in his seat, fidgeting.

He starts to clap out _A Sailor Went to Sea, Sea, Sea_ on his lap, clumsily, until Mama tells him to stop. It's too distracting, she says. He obeys. He'll do anything right now for her. After all, if he obeys her, she'll love him even more, right? He waits impatiently. He remembers something he read once. What he feels is called suspense. A couple more foot taps and he'll be home.

Finally, he sees the big metal thingy that sits atop their building. It isn't finished yet. They park outside, and he practically races to the door, waiting for them to open it. He darts inside, butterflies in his stomach, but intent on getting some good food. Hospital food is icky-ewy-ucky. He starts to grab a hotdog. He didn't eat breakfast. Before he can eat it, Daddy takes it away. He settles down on the couch when Daddy orders him to. He twists his legs in and out from each other impatiently. Mama sits beside Daddy. The butterflies flitter more fiercely inside him. _They're about to say it_ , he thinks with anticipation.

"Daniel James Fenton, what the hell were you doing taking pills?" It starts with a ringing, angry voice only his Daddy ever uses. Why are they saying that? When will they tell him they love him? He doesn't say anything until the voice demands an answer.

"I-I-I w-wanted you to s-s-see me." He whispers, before repeating it as his Daddy demands him to, louder. The stutters are worse the second time around. He doesn't know what to do, how to react now. The ground has been ripped out from under him.

Daddy's eyes are cold as he glares at Danny. Mama takes over so Daddy doesn't get too angry. "See you? We see you every day." She objects, looking confused. Anger gleams behind her eyes as well.

Danny doesn't say anything. Not for a little bit. Finally, he speaks. "No, you don't. You like in-vent-ing too much. You didn't want to take me to Sam's birthday party." He crosses his arms, forcing himself not to glare too much. Mama might not like him if he did that.

"You…you little piece of _shit!_ " His Daddy cuts off any response from his mama. Danny flinches. Daddy never uses that word unless he's really angry. He doesn't curse much. "Attention-seeking brat! Honestly, sometimes, I can barely believe you're our son. Stupid. Worthless. When was the last time you did anything useful around here? It would've been easier if you were never born." Even Mama looks a little shocked by the outburst. But she doesn't say anything about it, and that's what makes all the difference to him. He waits for the storm to end.

"Money's tight around here, yet you sit here like a fucking shower drain sucking off our precious money! The experiments we carry out are delicate, time-sensitive, yet you try to distract us with your ridiculous stunts." Danny is still as stone, fighting the impulse to cry, unsuccessfully. A few tears drip down his face, but he doesn't wipe them. He studies the ground, not even daring to look up. He can feel his mother's agreement with Daddy, and remembers what they said about the government not believing them, and how nobody paid them, and that they barely got by living off Jack's inheritance.

His Mama adds, "If you plan on staying here for very long and still getting fed, you should start helping. You got a break from the few tasks you have while you were at the hospital. Stay in your room until I come to let you out." She yanks him by the arm with a grip so tight it burns and Danny knows it might bruise. She pulls him into his room, ignoring his protests. She closes the door and locks it from the outside, careful to keep it tightly shut. Danny curls up by himself in the dark room, disoriented.

* * *

Danny stays deep inside his room, waiting for them. His faith in them falters as they leave him there. At first he thinks that maybe they'll come back, apologize, and then he can ask them to forgive them, and in a few days, he'll be happy again, even if they never really love him. He waits, patience winning against his fears. They'll come. They'll come. He listens for footsteps along the hall, coming to his room. None come yet. As he waits, the sun begins to go down a little outside until he has to turn on the light to see well. His stomach growls, reminding him of how long ago it was that he ate breakfast. They still don't come. He falls asleep for a few hours, boredom and exhaustion taking effect.

He takes out a magazine he borrowed from somebody. He doesn't know who at all. He saw it and the photo on the cover interested him. It's a rocket, he remembers, from photos Jazzy showed him once. He looks further, ignoring the hunger pangs in his stomach until he finally gives up on concentration. He looks at the clock. It's past 7:00pm. Nobody comes. It's been over six hours, he realizes. Six hours. His stomach hurts, but it doesn't compare with his heart. He cries for a long time, and it feels like his heart is pulling in on itself. His chest is heavy, and he rocks himself back and forth. They won't come. They won't come. They won't come. He finally stops crying again.

Danny looks up when the door lock clicks, anxious to get out, needing food. It's his Mama, the only one who he thinks might not hate him. He goes to the door and waits. A few moments pass. Mama doesn't do anything. She barely glances at him, just a glare that shrivels the rest of his heart into stone like obsidian. It's when he realizes that that the last of his faith in his parents wavers and crumbles like London Bridge in the song. He refuses to cry. In fact, he doesn't feel like crying. His heart won't let him. It's like a little pressure in his throat, the tears, but he pulls them down into his stomach and away from his eyes.

Maybe it's the expression he wears as his heart tightens up, but Mama gives him a look. "Are you being defiant, young man?"

He doesn't know how to answer, but he finally says, "No, ma'am." He feels a tiny glow of victory that makes him smile a little. Ma'am is such a foreign term. He thinks of it as the way you would address someone you didn't really like, and she doesn't realize it. The smile, however, warns Mama that something isn't right. Before he can move away, a harsh slap makes his neck pop a little, but he is obsidian now. Nothing can hurt him, he tells himself. Even the pressure in his throat is gone. It stings no matter what he tells himself, but at least he knows now that they don't care, and that there's nothing he can do about it.

 **And there you have it! There will be a sequel, but I need to work out the exact events. I'll post an extra chapter here as an A/N, and I'll delete it within a week. The first chapter of the sequel will be posted before I take the A/N down.**

 **-MiaulinK**


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